


cut me open

by adamantine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (at least Dimitri thinks so), Dimilix NSFW Bingo (Fire Emblem), M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), veers more towards an angst-y tone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26040919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantine/pseuds/adamantine
Summary: Dimitri came to Garreg Mach for revenge. Sometimes, Felix makes him forget that purpose.Written for Dimilix NSFW Bingo <3Prompt: Something Sexy With Swords
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Kudos: 37
Collections: Dimilix NSFW Bingo





	cut me open

**Author's Note:**

> Very, very much inspired by this [lovely, lovely art](https://twitter.com/faiell/status/1239445631573168130) when I was feeling extreme writer’s block for bingo.

Holding a sword right is an art form. Too loose of a grip and it will be knocked out of hand, too strong of a grip and a heavy blow might cause the wielder undue injury. Mastering the right balance of flexibility and strength is the simplest lesson for a swordsman and it’s one Dimitri fails time and time again.

In his case, the results of a too tight grip are not an injury to his hand but an injury to his sword. Countless swords have been snapped by his hands as if they were as delicate as eggshells. The frustration of it drives him to overcorrect with a loose grip that is good for his sword but not for him. In a real battle, it could get him killed. But then, it isn’t as if Dimitri needs a weapon to win. He’s the weapon when it comes down to it.

But this isn’t a battlefield or a duel to the death. Theoretically, it’s a friendly spar but as it’s against Felix the “friendly” part of the designation is questionable. Nevertheless, after knocking Dimitri to the ground and sending his sword flying out of reach, Felix holds the tip of his sword to Dimitri’s throat instead of driving it in, so in that sense, he _is_ being friendly.

Felix’s sharp, toothy grin as he stands victorious above Dimitri is electrifying. It’s the look of a predator catching its prey, not the smile of a friend after winning a game. Dimitri surrenders his throat further for Felix to cut as he chooses; a sick, greedy heat unfurls in him when Felix’s eyes are drawn to slight the motion.

“I yield.” The shape of Dimitri’s words press against the sharp, metal tip of the sword.

Felix pulls back as if burned. The loss of pressure at his throat is disappointing.

“Boar,” Felix says, looking away from him.

Dimitri wants those eyes back on him, pinning him into place.

“Will you help me up?” Dimitri asks, courting danger.

Felix turns to him angrily, dark hair unraveling from his tight bun, and Dimitri prepares himself for the rejection that is sure to come. He should be used to it by now, but the fifteen years of Felix’s devotion is proving difficult to overwrite. He expects it in the same taken-for-granted way he expects his arms and legs to move. It’s a foolish, arrogant feeling and he deserves every bit of Felix’s scorn.

But, in a testament to his unpredictability and Dimitri’s inability to understand him, Felix offers him his hand. Cared for skin and short, blunt nails reach for him and it makes Dimitri wish he could take off his gauntlets without it being strange.

Felix pulls him up easily, despite having to do most of the work in getting Dimitri off the ground. He isn’t as strong as Dimitri—no one is—but he isn’t weak. He could carry Dimitri if he wanted to.

Once on his feet, their perspectives reverse. Felix is the one that has to look up at him, tilting his neck just so to meet his eyes. He’s not wearing his uniform vest and without it, the dip of his shirt between his chest hangs loose enough to look down.

_Does he know?_ Dimitri is torn by twin desires, one to pull the fabric together and the other to rip it apart completely. He settles for touching Felix’s exposed skin with his gauntlet covered hand. Ever a fool, he dips his fingers into the inviting opening of fabric and has his hand slapped away.

“What are you doing, boar?” Felix flushes with anger but he doesn’t step back. The stray cats of the monastery are like this too: presenting themselves for Dimitri to pet and then clawing at him when he does.

“Nothing. Your shirt is loose.” _And I can see everything standing above you. Did you do it on purpose, Felix?_

“Mind yourself, beast,” he says as if he’s able to hear Dimitri’s thoughts.

Dimitri gathers his sword from the floor, all too aware of Felix’s burning gaze following after him.

“I’m done for the night,” Dimitri says, removing himself from Felix’s proximity before he can do something even more idiotic.

The dorms are quiet as he makes his way to his room. A few doors at the other end are open but at Dimitri’s end of the hallway, every door is shut tight. Sylvain, no doubt, won’t be back for hours (if at all) and Claude has a tendency to stay in the library until he’s kicked out. Felix, of course, is back at the training grounds where Dimitri left him.

Dimitri is alone. He enters his room and locks the door behind him. He only locks it when he’s inside it, a precaution against being woken up unexpectedly by someone. He has a tendency to not be himself in those first moments of wakefulness, attacking wildly at whoever disturbs him. He has enough guilt over it already from lashing out at Dedue; he doesn’t need to add others to the list.

The gauntlets are off first, followed by his gloves and boots. He carefully folds his cape and sets it down before shrugging off the rest of his uniform in exchange for a sleep shirt. He doesn’t feel particularly tired but he doesn’t have the energy to do more than read and he knows if he does he’ll lose track of time and suddenly it’ll be dawn. He crawls into bed and stares at the ceiling with the dim light from the windows. He tries and tries to quiet his thoughts but they swirl around him, begging for attention.

He brushes his fingers against his lips and imagines things he shouldn’t. Felix’s grin is burned in his memory—and the flash of sharp teeth that came with it. He wants to see those teeth sink into flesh.

In his imagination, the memory of Felix’s sword at his throat becomes teeth piercing into his neck, biting down hard enough that Dimitri is torn between arousal and fear. If he yields himself fully to Felix, will Felix take the opportunity? He wants him to. He wants to be at Felix’s mercy. Will Felix carve up his flesh with cold metal, or will he use his body as a weapon to tear Dimitri apart?

Desire is complicated for Dimitri. He feels forbidden from it, betrayed by it. His sole purpose is to serve as a vessel for revenge. That he still feels such things is a failure of his dedication. The voices would berate him for it, but they’re quiet tonight and Dimitri finds himself glad for it.

He slips his hand under his blanket and grabs his cock, hard and leaking from thoughts of Felix doing this to him. It would be so much better if it was Felix. He takes pride in his hands, caring for them with oils. Dimitri has seen him at it in the dormitory washrooms, spilling the oil in his palms and rubbing it in with firm strokes. Dimitri imagines those cared for hands on him as he strokes his cock in accompaniment.

He remembers when they both stood—the dizzying thrill of Felix having to look up to see him, the way the fabric of his shirt hung loose providing a perfect view of his chest—and ruts into his fist with a groan. He imagines Felix sinking lower still, on his knees, and looking up at him through his lashes. Dimitri would smear his cock against his jaw, watching as Felix’s eyes flutter closed and his lips parted in want. Would he be able to take Dimitri’s cock in full? He would try, not one to back down from a challenge. His jaw would strain from the effort of sucking Dimitri’s length, but he wouldn’t give up. His hair would unravel fully under Dimitri’s fingers as he guided him.

He could come down Felix’s throat. Watch him swallow his seed. Or, he could grab Felix by his hair, yanking him off and up to spill down his chest. His seed dripping down that patch of uncovered skin, sliding underneath the fabric. But still, Dimitri would see it. Just as he saw the beginnings of rising nipples when he stood above him today.

A door opens, the sound reverberating in the quiet of the dormitory. Felix is back; the floor creaks under his boots. Dimitri tries to slow his breathing which suddenly feels much too loud. His balls tighten as he hears the telltale signs of Felix undressing—his sword clattering as he unbuckles his belt, his boots thudding across the floor as he walks to his dresser—and he tries to hurry up his release before Felix can hear him.

The drawers of Felix’s dresser slide open in a cacophony of scraping wood; Dimitri turns over and muffles his moans against his pillow. He ruts blindly—into his hand, into his sheets—chasing after friction all while imagining Felix underneath him.

He comes with a low cry and a shudder and collapses into his bedsheets, panting. Silence stretches over him as he slowly returns to himself. Felix’s dorm room is quiet. He must be in bed, oblivious to the fact that just a wall over, Dimitri is imagining painting streaks of come across his chest.

Guilt and shame well up inside of Dimitri—this is why he hates desire. It tricks him into seeking a momentary pleasure that never lasts long enough to be worth it. He shouldn’t be touching himself to thoughts of anyone, let alone Felix. He presses his unsoiled palm to his eye before getting up to clean himself off. The sheets are another story, but they have to wait as the tiredness that eluded him earlier suddenly decides to visit. He wipes himself off quickly before being lulled into a dreamless sleep.

He doesn’t notice the creak of the mattress next door, nor is he awake when a whispered name spills from breathless lips.

_“Dimitri.”_


End file.
